Rebuilding Rome
by ChangeEverything4078
Summary: War changes people in ways no one can truly understand, and as Hermione struggles to identify the changes within herself, she comes to realize that there may be one other person who knows what she's going through - but will the two be able to help each other?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi Everyone, I've decided to begin a new fanfiction! Rest assured, **_**From the Ashes**_** isn't going anywhere, but inspiration struck, in one form or another, so I hope you enjoy this! **

_If you close your eyes._

_Does it almost feel like nothing's changed at all?_

_Oh, where do we begin – _

_The rubble, or our sins?_

(Pompeii, Bastille)

Hermione stood at the mouth of the empty compartment, gazing at the seats that were once occupied by her friends. Now, the compartment was empty, and as the train whistled and pulled away from the station, she couldn't stand the thought of spending the long ride alone.

Harry had decided to pursue early auror's training; the Ministry began offering positions to students merely days after the final battle, and he was quick to accept. Ron was currently undecided in his future, and chose instead to spend time with his family, mending the holes left by Fred's death.

She stood, deliberating silently, while first years bustled around her, bumping into each other and flashing new wands, books, and robes, poring over campus maps with anticipation. She remembered the feeling all too well, and seeing the first years only brought into starker contrast how different this year would be.

The witch shook her head, and shut the compartment door with a final click. She parted the sea of students, slowly making her way towards the front of the train. There was a compartment available for the Head Boy and Girl, and although she did not need to report there for another two hours, she found the thought of sitting there alone to be considerable less stressful.

When she pulled open the door, she found the compartment already occupied; in the corner bench, closest to the window, Draco Malfoy was sitting, staring blankly at a book in his lap. He looked up when she entered, pulling a tired smirk across his features.

"Granger," he said, but it was lacking the hatred from years past. He looked worn out, exhausted. Hermione sat timidly on the bench across from him, as close to the door as possible.

"Malfoy," she greeted quietly. The pair sat in silence for some time, each with a book in their lap, but Hermione had read the same paragraph five times so far, and had yet to retain any of it. The tension in the compartment was almost palpable, and the witch shifted uncomfortably.

"Something you'd like to say, Granger?" Her companion finally asked, sounding irritated. "I can see you glancing over here every thirty seconds, you know. Believe it or not, I did make it through the war with an intact sense of sight," he said snarkily. Hermione blushed, looking.

"Incredible. After everything you've seen, you still blush like a schoolgirl," the boy taunted, closing his book.

"Mind your own business, Malfoy," the witch angrily retorted, slamming her own book shut as well. The two glared at each other, unwilling to look away and admit defeat. With a sudden lurch, the compartment door slid open, jerking both sets of eyes, silver and brown, away from each other. Professor McGonagall stood in the doorway, shuffling a stack of items she must have confiscated during the short trip already.

"Lovely, you both seem to have found each other. Let's go over some ground rules, alright?" The older woman sat, looking them both in the eyes.

"I know this year will be difficult in many ways for the two of you. But let's try our best to put the past behind us, shall we?" She said. Draco rolled his eyes, turning away, while Hermione nodded gingerly. Neither understood how they would be able to 'put the past behind them,' but neither expressed this.

"You both will be responsible for overseeing prefects this year, as well as an evening patrol schedule. The two of you will share dormitories as well – your rooms are on the second floor, with a joined common room and bath. I know I don't need to tell either of you this, but the dormitories are separate for a reason. Please keep it that way," the older witch continued.

Malfoy snorted derisively, and Hermione blushed again, looking at her hands. There was a loud bang, followed by a commotion out in the halls, and the Headmistress quickly left the compartment, yelling at the guilty second years.

"Detention already, and we haven't even made it to school yet," Hermione muttered.

"What do you know about detention, Granger?" Malfoy asked, somewhat rudely. Hermione shrugged.

"When Harry and Ron are your best friends, you become a bit too familiar with the institution."

"What could Potty and Weasel possibly get themselves into?" Malfoy asked, this time curious.

"Well, there was one time…"

The two began to recount their various adventures at opposite ends of the castle, the time passing quickly, and animosity slowly beginning to fade.

"Look, Malfoy – Draco, I know we've never been friends. But I don't want this year to be one long battle with you. I think we've both done enough fighting. Truce?" Hermione said hesitantly, as they drew close to the castle.

Malfoy sat silently, staring at her outreached hand for a few moments. He considered replying with something that would shut her up at least for the next two weeks, but decided against it. Loathe, as he was to admit it, she was right. He was tired of the fighting. He reached out and gingerly accepted her handshake.

"Truce, Granger," he said at last.

"Hermione," the witch intoned, softly, with a small smile.

"Don't push it," came her companion's reply, as he returned to staring out the window. Hermione simply shrugged. Rome wasn't built in a day, after all, and she would dare say that between the years of tension and the war, rebuilding their relationship made rebuilding Rome seem like a simple feat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi again =) sorry it's short, I'm still getting into this one!**

_I don't have answers, _

_And neither do you,_

_But I know the pain of a heartbreak_

(When a Heart Breaks, Ben Rector)

The feast began as all the others did; the sorting hat still sang the same song, the first years joined their houses with characteristic excitement, but to Hermione, the feast seemed bleak. Gryffindors around her chattered happily, helping themselves to food, and seemed oblivious to the witch, who was just pushing food around her plate. She looked up when McGonagall stood to make announcements, and directed the prefects to lead to students from the hall. Across the hall, she caught the eye of her blonde companion, who was shaking his head slightly, and eyeing the festivities with more than a little hostility. The two of them rose together, and began the trek from the hall to their new rooms.

When they arrived at the painting on the second floor that concealed their rooms, they both paused- neither knew the password. After a few moments of thought on her part, and glaring at the painting on his, Hermione had an idea.

"I think I read something about this, actually!" She tucked her curly hair behind her ears, and withdrew her wand. Muttering something that sounded Latin, she gave her wand a flick and then turned to face him.

"Touch the painting," she commanded. He opened his mouth to argue, but thought better of it. He jabbed a finger into the canvas, causing the figures within it to stir and titter angrily at him. She reached out and placed her palm flat against it for a moment, then withdrew her small hand.

"What do you want the password to be?" She asked. He shrugged noncommittally. Hermione shook her head, bemused – Malfoy was showing more restraint that usual. The angry boy she used to know would have suggested something rude, or hurtful; as long as it made his companion uncomfortable, he would be satisfied.

"Okay… it should be something others won't guess. How about 'agapanthus'?" She asked.

"What in Merlin's name is an 'agapanthus'?" Draco asked, flabbergasted.

"Oh. It's, um, it's a Muggle flower. They're quite lovely, in the summer…" Her companion just shook his head, muttered the password, and pushed into the chambers. She heard the door slam, and with a sigh, she followed suit, closing her door softly, and wishing they could have spoken more.

Hermione awoke suddenly, and for a moment in the dark, she was unsure what had roused her; after a few seconds though, she knew exactly what it was. Through the thin walls, she could hear her companion tossing and turning in his sleep, and shouting at the demons that still plagued him long after losing the war. Hermione placed her palm against the wall, and wished there was something she could do to help, then lay back down, knowing there wasn't.


	3. Chapter 3

Rebuilding Rome ch.3

It doesn't make me nervous

If anything I'm restless

I've been around and I've seen it all

…

You're gone and I've got to stay high

all the time

to keep you off my mind

(Habits, Tove Lo)

Hermione lurched upright, heart pounding, looking frantically around her room. After a few seconds, she shook her head softly, surveying the empty room that was slowly growing light with the dawn. It was just a nightmare. No matter how many times she awoke with a start, no matter how many times she fell asleep to the same scene, it always seemed so real, so painfully plausible, she could never quite convince herself that it had been a dream. Glancing at her watch, Hermione saw that she still had quite some time before her first class, but she reluctantly pushed back her blankets, knowing that she wouldn't be getting anymore sleep now that she was awake.

Grabbing her towel from the hook in her closet, Hermione scooped her bag of toiletries from her open trunk on the floor and padded to the bathroom. Moving quietly to try to avoid waking her roommate, she started the shower and got in, cranking the temperature to as hot as she could possibly stand it. She washed her hair quickly, but even when all traces of suds were long gone from the shower floor, still she stood under the hot water, watching her abdomen and limbs gradually turn pink from the temperature, but absolutely removed from the experience. While it was never her intention to rise so early, she was subconsciously glad she did, because her morning showers were the only time she truly allowed herself to mourn.

It was a habit she had quickly adapted after the war, when she realized that her tears only made it harder for everyone else. No matter how much the war had hurt Hermione, it had hurt others worse, and she accepted that her role was not to be weak, but to try and make it as easy as possible for the people around her whose lives had been torn apart. She began showering in the early mornings, when no one else would be awake to hear her muffled cries over the running water, and no one would question why her cheeks were quite so wet. When it seemed that her nightmares were not fading as more time passed, she simply maintained the habit, even long after the tears had stopped flowing.

Hermione was startled from her thoughts by a loud, insistent knocking on the bathroom door. Taken aback, she pushed aside the shower curtain, looking at her watch on the ledge of the sink. It was still over an hour before breakfast even began, why in the world would Draco be awake? The pounding continued, and Hermione shook her head, figuring if she ignored it, he would get the hint and leave her to shower in peace.

"Granger, I swear, this is your last warning. You have about a minute to be out of the bathroom, or I'm coming in there," Draco threatened from the other side of the door. Hermione huffed, angry at the disruption. A few moments passed, and then she heard something she wasn't expecting. The door to the bathroom flew open, and Draco stomped in, dropping his own bag of toiletries onto the sink counter, and placing his towel next to hers on the rack.

"I warned you, Granger. You aren't the only one that needs to shower, you know," her roommate remarked smartly. Hermione pulled the curtain shut tighter, then replied indignantly:

"Draco! There's still an hour before breakfast, you absolutely do not need the bathroom this instant! You could be polite and wait, you know!"

"Too damn bad," she heard him mutter, and then she shrieked in surprise when she felt him tug at the curtain. "Last warning, Granger. You have until three. One, two.." Rather than test him, Hermione sighed angrily and grabbed her towel, shutting off the water. When she was fully covered, she threw back the curtain, shooting a look of absolute hatred at the blonde wizard smirking against the sink. Rather than respond to her anger, he eyed her dripping form salaciously, causing the witch to blush and stomp from the bathroom.

When she was back in the safety of her own room, she slammed the door shut with a vengeance, then fell back against it, breathless. Her heart was pounding, blood coursing through her veins like fire, her head spinning. She couldn't describe what it was about the interaction that caused her to react so strongly, but something in the wizard's gaze made her feel something that she hadn't felt in longer than she could remember - but certainly not since the war.

Shaking her head to dispel such thoughts, she got dressed for the day and slowly walked down for breakfast.


End file.
